


suspension of disbelief

by twistedsky



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedsky/pseuds/twistedsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blind date AU. Grant Ward goes to a really bad horror movie with a blind date, and strikes up a conversation with the woman sitting next to him, who is as horrified as he is by everything the movie chooses to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	suspension of disbelief

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: discussion of violence and blood, and other horror film traits. 
> 
> For sapphireglyphs on tumblr.
> 
> It's an AU, so Grant Ward is mostly early season one Grant Ward in terms of characterization.

The date’s a bit of a failure, and the movie hasn't even started yet.

To be fair, all they’ve done so far is ride in the car for about fifteen minutes and wait in line at the movie theatre, but the fact that Grant is _cherishing_ the few minutes it takes him to buy snacks while Clarisse picks seats for them should say something.

Maybe if she hadn’t been thirty minutes late getting ready, then it wouldn't be so bad. But who is he kidding? Their conversation in the car had proven to him that he's definitely never going to care one way or another about statistics, which is her  _life_ , apparently. She has literally spouted numbers at him for a full five minutes at one point, giving him a dark look when he'd tried to get a word in edgewise.

Honestly, he would have ditched his date by now if she weren’t a friend of Skye’s(Skye usually has much better taste than this—though, he thinks, she may be getting even with him for that whole decaf coffee on a stakeout situation from last week, but he hopes not).

Either way, this is the last time that he lets Skye set him up on a blind date. 

Skye’s his partner, so he can’t just refuse to speak to her for a few weeks(in their business, that can get someone killed), but he’s definitely going to very sternly remind her every five or so minutes about how upset he is about this entire situation for several weeks, at least. 

He practically massacres the popcorn with extra butter, and then drags his feet to go find his date.

It’s some awful-looking horror film, and he’s not even a _fan_ of horror films in general, because they tend to either make him laugh or make him fall asleep.

He enters the theatre their movie is in and looks up at the seats.

And there she is, _Clarisse_.

The seats _he_ likes are open, but is she sitting there? Of course not, even though he recommended them and she _agreed_ with him.

On one side of her, there’s already a guy sitting there, and she seems to be chatting with him. On the other side there’s a space and then a woman chatting with _her_ boyfriend, which means he’s going to be stuck between people, and he hates that.

One side for the person you came with, and one side for, well, making himself feel comfortable. That's how he likes it.

There are fewer people in the theatre than he’d thought there’d be considering that the movie is apparently supposed to be popular, but somehow she’s still managed to find seats surrounded by people.

But whatever, he thinks, this evening might still be salvageable.

He walks up the stairs, and then moves his way over to his date, who doesn't move her legs, so he practically has to climb over her.

She doesn’t even _look_ at him, and she eyes his popcorn with distaste and grabs a drink before turning back to look at the guy sitting next to her.

Maybe she’ll leave with him, Grant thinks meanly.

When she hadn't been talking about statistics, she'd spent her time in the car ride over  _complaining_. Mostly about him, somehow, to the point that he’d simply started answering her questions with one word answers and mutters, but that hadn’t stopped her.

He sighs, and enjoys the rest of the previews before the movie starts.

When the movie finally _does_ start, his date is still talking, so he turns to her, “Um, the movie’s starting,” he whispers, and she simply glares at him, so he shrugs and turns back to the movie.

The woman on the other side of him sighs, and he turns to watch her roll her eyes at the opening credits.

Oh yeah, this movie is going to be fun.

~~

“That’s not how blood squirts out,” the woman on his left says, and he turns to look at her.

She’s pretty, and she’s clearly smart enough to know that. She’s also British, so that’s . . . interesting.

More interesting than his date, who started making out with the guy on the other side of her about five minutes in. It's like someone's  _paying_ her to be a terrible date, and for a moment Grant actually thinks that might be the case.

But okay, he thinks. Okay.

He doesn’t exactly want to try to get past her right now and just leave, even though they’re only about fifteen minutes into the movie and it’s utter crap.

There are way too many people on the other side of him to try to get out that way, so he’s stuck.

“It’s not,” he says instead, agreeing with his other neighbor. There’s no one in front of them or behind them, and Grant's former date and her  _new_ date don't seem to be all that interested in the movie, so it's not like he's disturbing anyone.

The woman on his left turns to him sharply. “Sorry, I was just talking to myself.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just  . . . bored.”

“You could always leave,” she suggests, gesturing to her left where her apparent date is getting up and doing just that.

He could follow suit, and since the other guy is doing it, this seems like a perfect moment, but then people start throwing popcorn at the poor guy.

Why, Grant has no idea. It’s not like they’re missing an amazing movie or anything, and he’s clearly moving as fast as he can.

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to experience some minor ridicule in order to do it, but it’ll be worth it in the end, because this movie is terribly scientifically inaccurate.”

“It’s awful,” Grant says, because it is. “I’d escape this way,” he points to his right, “But my date seems to have taken a liking to the guy on the other side of her.”

“Ouch,” she has the decency to wince. “My date just abandoned me, even though it was his idea to watch this movie, because quote, ‘I wasn’t appreciating the movie enough, and it was ruining his experience.’”

“What an asshole,” Grant says with a smile, and she smiles back.

“Well, to be fair, I’m not enjoying it much.”

They’re sort of mock whispering, but no one seems to be bothered too much by their talking, so Grant carries on.

He paid money for this crapfest, after all.

“I’m a cop, and we would never leave someone completely unattended like that without checking the room,” Grant says, pointing to the screen. “This is ridiculous.”

“I believe the point of the movie,” the woman says, “Is to make sure all of the characters except for the chosen few to die. And that’s easiest done if the characters are _fools.”_

“You have a point,” Grant admits. “I think that’s how most horror movies work.”

“I believe so,” the woman says with a sigh. “I’m not much of a fan. If I watch one at all, I need it to be much sillier so that I can forego even pretending to take it seriously.”

Grant raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t look like you’re pretending to take this movie seriously to me.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says. “I’m very serious,” and she even growls a bit, then covers her mouth, clearly embarrassed. “I have no idea what that was.”

“You’ve been infected by how terrible the movie is,” Grant suggests.

“I suppose I must have been,” and she smiles slightly.

They’re both quiet then, and a few minutes pass, and Grant thinks that’s that, and he’s settling back into tedium when, “Wow,” the woman says. “That was spectacularly foolish. If you’re going to sob loudly in your hiding space, you might as well just _run_ away.”

Grant snorts, and _that_ earns him a nasty look from a few other moviegoers, though apparently talking doesn’t seem to bother them? Okay, whatever.

“Shh,” the woman says, smiling slightly. “This movie isn’t even awful enough to be interesting,” she sighs, and he’d agree, but he’s sort of enjoying the commentary.

He can’t exactly say that though. “Yeah.”

She turns to him and smiles brightly. “I’m Jemma.”

“Grant,” he says, and he reaches out his hand to shake hers.

He’s met people in stranger places.

“So why is your date kissing someone else?” Jemma asks conversationally.

“It’s a blind date,” he says, and she nods her head, like that explains everything.

“Mine too,” Jemma admits. “A friend of mine set us up, and it was a terrible mistake.”

“I’m about to put a moratorium on blind dates for the rest of my life,” Grant agrees. “Look how invested in this guy she is. She doesn’t even realize I’m talking about her.”

“I don’t think she notices much of everything,” Jemma says, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head to look past him. “I think he must be choking on her tongue at this point,” she looks at him and winces. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Grant says. He’s not.

“I lost track of the plot of this movie,” Jemma looks back at the screen. “Besides people dying in particularly gruesome, if uninspired ways, I’m not impressed.”

“I’m not sure how anyone is impressed by it,” he agrees. “I thought this movie was at least supposed to be _good_.”

“Well,” she says. “Good is a rather relative term.”

“Uh huh,” he says. “What do you do for a living?” he has a feeling, but let’s see if he’s right.

“I’m a biochemist. I teach at the local university, do some research. It’s all much more interesting than this movie.”

“It would have to be,” Grant says, and then he narrows his eyes.”You look too young to be a college professor.”

Jemma shrugs. “I graduated early.”

Very early, from the looks of things, though he doesn’t comment on that.

One comment about age is impolite, but a second is downright rude, and so he turns his focus back to the movie.

“Where did he come from?” Grant asks. “I don’t think we’ve seen him before.”

Jemma looks back up and frowns. “Uhhh, I do believe we have a second killer. Hmm. You’re a police officer, do they often work in packs like that?”

“Detective,” he corrects lightly. “Well, not like _that_ exactly.”

“Hmm,” Jemma taps her fingers on the plastic cupholder between them. “This movie could use more blood."

“It could use a lot of things,” Grant says diplomatically.

“Oh no,” Jemma says. “I meant it literally. That girl’s carotid artery was clearly cut. She should be dead by now. Though I do wish everyone else in this movie would die a little faster, so that the movie can end, of course.”

“She’s clearly our protagonist though, and we’re far enough into the movie that I don’t think we have time to find another.”

Jemma sighs. “Very well. I don’t think I can watch this movie much longer. I’m far past the suspension of disbelief. At this point I might as well believe in flying purple pigs who deliver cupcakes to grumpy children.”

“Oh—okay.” That's weirdly specific. 

Jemma shakes her head. “My friend is writing a children’s book,” she explains.

“Ah,” Grant says. “Well, if the movie is too much for you, then maybe we should discuss something else?” They've still got another forty minutes by his count.

Jemma bites her lip, and considers his words. “We could do that.”

“I think we have to,” Grant says. “The movie clearly is beyond us now.”

“True, true,” Jemma agrees. “So what sort of movies _do_ you like?”

And that’s that. He doesn’t notice anything more about the movie until it ends, when the lights flicker on, and his former date is already gone.

“Huh,” he says. “There goes dinner.”

“Oh, I’m starving,” Jemma says, her face lighting up, and then falling. “And my date drove me here. Oh, wonderful.”

“Don’t worry about,” Grant says. “I could give you a ride home?”

“That would be wonderful,” Jemma thanks him effusively. “Thank you so much. I suppose I know you better than I knew my actual date, so even if you are a serial killer, I believe I’ll be better off than I was with him anyway.”

Grant laughs, and gets up, and they make their way out of the movie theatre. He notices how incredibly _small_ she is, because he hadn’t quite noticed while she’d been sitting down.

Jemma gets distracted looking at the nearby food court, and he smiles slightly. “We could stop and get food first?”

Jemma looks at him guiltily. “I wouldn’t want to put you out,” she says, then hesitates.

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “I have the time, and I’m hungry.”

“Oh good,” Jemma says, clearly relieved. She grabs his arm and pulls him toward the food court.

~~

It should be noted in future retellings of this story, Skye says, that she set up _both_ of those terrible blind dates, and suggested that movie to both pairs.

She shouldn’t be proud of that, Grant tells her, but Skye just shrugs and smiles triumphantly.

Jemma points out that it would have been easier to set them up with each other.

Grant thinks that Skye must have done a lot more than just set up both blind dates for them to _coincidentally_ end up sitting next to each other, and he says as much to Skye.

But that, Skye says, is besides the point.

“You both have your guard so far up with new people, I’m surprised you can even _see_  them,” Skye says, shaking her head.

Well, Grant thinks, looking down at Jemma. It all worked out for the best anyway.


End file.
